Recounting the Day
by Dunnywater
Summary: Shawn Spencer and Dean Winchester find themselves in Santa Barbara police station. When a 'friend' of Dean's shows up, Shawn and Dean must recount the day before. But there are two mysteries: where are Sam and Gus and what happened to Dean's dad journal?
1. Thursday 15th, 9:30pm

A/N:Yes a new story. Even though school is commencing in 2 days time; this just got in my head and wouldn't go away.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

All I own are two guinea pigs. Called Neo and Spencer.

Set during season two for Supernatural. It's a little more vague for Psych. It could fit in season one or two. Before his mum came back.

* * *

Thursday 15th, 9:30

The psychic looked at the hunter, the hunter snarled at him in return. Usually both full of joking; they knew they were in shit, deep shit. One was handling it slightly better than the other.

"So Dean; can I _please _apologise to you?"

"Shut up Spencer! For the last time it is _not _your fault!"

"So you are not blaming me for stealing your dad's journal? That's a relief."

"You. Did. What?" That was news to Dean's ears.

"Appa...rent...ly...no...nothing." Quivered Shawn under Dean's look that could kill.

"Tell me the truth Spencer; did you take my dad's journal?"

"Fine; yes I did."

"You idiot! This is NOW your fault!"

"I'm mean; what can happen?"

"You are sitting in it! Take a look around pal."

Shawn Spencer took a good look around detention room 9 of the Santa Barbara Police Department and his look around finished on the hunter; Dean Winchester. Dean honestly scared Shawn. And Dean knew it.

Shawn looked into the two way mirror. He knew exactly how many people were watching through it. Lassy, Jules, the chief and his dad; along with three other men which must be of the cast of Men in Black 3 thought Shawn.

"Dude; what are staring at the mirror for? Stop checking out your hair; it looks like crap."

"Dean; I wasn't checking out my hair, I was checking out yours. It looks so much better when the light bounces it's reflection off the mirror and into my eyes."

Dean, straining very hard to keep his temper in control, hit Shawn on his right arm.

"OWW!"

"DEAN!" And he hit back. The men and women behind the mirror must have decided to intervene before there were fatalities as Shawn's friends plus the alien hunters entered.

Dean's eyes fixed on a tall black man and cursed very badly.

"Now Dean that's no way to treat a friend is it?"

Shawn honed in on how Dean's nostrils flared and how a very tiny instant of fear was shadowed in his green eyes. It was gone as soon as it had come. Shawn was the only one who'd noticed it. "You know each other..." Shawn then honed in on the black man's smug smile, gun bulge at his waist and his badge. He was FBI. The only way Shawn thought he could prove any innocence was to pretend to have a psych episode. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingers. "I'm seeing letters and criminals. Letters sent to criminals? No. Guns and badges too."

Henry, his father, rolled his eyes along side with Hd. Detective Carlton Lassiter. Lassy for short. The imposing black man's smile became more smug. Dean just sighed and leaned his head on the table. Only Juliet and Chief Vick seemed to be interested. Nobody stopped him so Shawn continued.

"You are a cop. Not a normal cop though. Umm. NIB? CIA? Toys 'r' Us?"

"Mr Spencer." Someone cautioned.

"FBI?" Yes! FBI! You are here for this guy!" He pointed at Dean.

"Yes. Now Mr. Spencer you claim to be a psychic. What is my name?"

Shawn honestly had no idea what his name was. Dean had never mentioned it to him. In fact in the little time Shawn had known him he'd hardly learnt anything about the leather jacket clad man next to him.

"Um. A big black cloud has just descended upon you. I'm having trouble reading you."

"You read me fine before."

"A big black cloud has just descended upon you. I'm having trouble reading you." Repeated Shawn.

Lassiter let out his breath in one big whoosh. Everybody turned to him. In that short time; Dean mouthed something to him; Shawn read it. Dean had just told Shawn the black man's name. "You are Victor 'V-Dog' Hendrickson!" Dean grinned at the nickname.

"Agent Hendrickson to you. And I know who YOU are too, Mr. Spencer. So why don't you cut the psychic crap and cooperate. If you do; I might be able to cut you a deal. It isn't you who I'm here for."

Shawn didn't know what to do. If Gus was here he'd know what to do. He looked at Dean for advice and got a head shake from him.

"Of course if you don't help me then you will go away for a very long time. What do you think of that? You will be a cell so small you can't even stand up."

"I think I'm going to write a letter of complaint to the UN!" He yelled out fearfully.

"Mr. Spencer; all you have to do is to tell me what happened yesterday and how you met up with this guy. Is that difficult?"

"Yes if I had a speech impairment; then it would take me a very long time to form even the shortest of words."

Hendrickson had decided he'd had enough of Spencer so he ordered on of the men in black to take him away.

"No." Whispered Juliet. Hendrickson looked at her. He suddenly understood the relationship between the junior detective and the psychic, well fake psychic.

Dean knew what would happen to him if they did. He couldn't let this immature man who helped him take the blame. Dean was planning on escaping but he didn't want to leave Shawn an easy target and take the blame. The man yet silly was strikingly innocent and harmless.

"Fine Spencer; confess your heart out." Dean mumbled.

"Son; just tell them. If you tell the truth it will be easier than if you don't." Henry wanted his idiot for a son out of there; but Henry also wanted to hear what his son had been getting up to recently.

"Oh looks like we have a bit of compassion from Dean here. Not many people have earned that from him kid. I think you should listen to your father too."

Shawn had never really listened to his father; why would he start now?

"Look everyone; I know what I'm doing," That was a lie. "and if I do tell you the story of what happened then you have to suspend you belief systems temporarily. I know you have always given me the benefit of the doubt about being psychic," Lassiter and Henry snorted in unison. "I need you to just believe a little more. Please." Shawn looked at them in wide innocent eyes.

"Hurry up kid; or I will not give you a chance and you will be lock up..."

"For a very long time. Yes you told me before." Concluded Shawn. "I just wanted to classify the story so if there are any kids under 15 hiding in this room; leave now!"

"Shawn." Cautioned Henry.

"Dude." Cautioned Dean.

"Okay; here goes nothing. Oh and dad after this, you will probably end up calling mom; you have her newest phone number don't you? Great!"

"Mr Spencer would you tell us what happened so I can get the feds out of my station." Chief Vick almost hissed.

"I was riding my bike from dad's house back to Psych...." Shawn stopped. "This is quite a long one. You should make a phone order to Pizza Hut."

"Spencer!" s

"Shawn!"s

and "Dude!"s flew around the room from various people.

"I'm not kidding. Pizza Hut has this great deal at the moment. Buy 8 large pizzas and get a 9th free so even your friends in the back has some. And if we ring before 6pm we get a half price on half of the pizzas!"

"Spencer. It is 9:38pm. Can you PLEASE get going?" Everyone turned to Lassiter who'd been quite quiet. "What? CSI, NCIS, Num3ers and Monk are on tonight! It's casefile crime night. I don't want to miss them."

"That's just disturbing, Lassy. Oh and I think there's a RoboCop marathon on too."

"Spencer!" The room yelled at him.

"Okay, okay." Shawn took a deep breath. "I was riding my bike from dad's house back to Psych...."

* * *

A/N:Evil cliffy! I know there isn't much Dean in it but James was being bossy and wouldn't let Jensen say anything.

Where are Gus and Sammy, I wonder?

I'll try to get some more done as soon as possible. And remember; review! :)


	2. Thursday 15, 9:40pm on Wed 14, 3:00am

A/N: I've had some good response from a few people so thank you to them.

Sorry about the week of waiting; but school started again and it's seemed like a long week just getting back into the groove. I've waited for the weekend to post this. I hope it lives up to expectations. :)

After writing this chapter in many styles I've decided that it will be the same as last chapter; but every time Shawn has a 'vision' or a 'flashback' you will know because it will be in ***.

* * *

Still Thursday 15, 9:40pm. Talking about Wednesday 14th, 3am ---Shawn telling.

"I was riding his bike from my dad's house back to Psych at 3am in the morning. My dad had been begging me to come over for tea for ages and since you, Chief Vick, or anyone hadn't hired me for any case, I didn't really have that excuse. Of course I still did try it but unfortunately dad picked it. It would have been a crime not for me to try and get out of it though, wouldn't it?."

"You're damn right I did!" Yelled Henry.

"Dad can you shut up for the story _please?"_

"Can you gentlemen _please _leave your squabbling for after this?"

"You know V-Dog, I think this will be the one and only time I agree with you."

"Thanks Dean."

"Oh so you complain when Shawn craps on and then you two start?"

"Gee; thanks Lassygas!"

"Spencer!"

"Henry is one of the only people who could detect my lies. Not that I lie, haha. But that's why they call him 'The Human Lie Detecter and since I am 'World Champion Bullshit Artist' we two often clash."

"Who gives themselves the title of 'World Champion Bullshit Artist'?" All faces turned to Dean; then he realised that Shawn Spencer would give himself the title of 'World Champion Bullshit Artist'.

"Actually it was me who gave him that title." Said Henry.

"Thanks dad. I love it! Best thing you ever gave me. Asides from all that love you showed me when I was a kid. And that criminal record." Shawn winked at his dad. "But it was Henry who out did me on this occasion. Not only did dad want me to eat with him. But it turned out that my job was to catch the fish, gut the fish, descale the fish, cook the fish and then clean up, the fish. Let's say that ten times.

_Catch the fish, gut the fish, descale the fish, cook the fish and then clean up, the fish._

_Catch the fish, gut the fish, descale the fish, cook the fish and then clean up, the fish._

_Catch the fish, gut the fish, descale the fish, cook the fish and then clean up, the fish._

_Catch the fish, gut the fish, descale the fish, cook the fish and then clean up, the fish._

_Catch the fish, gut the fish, descale the fish, cook the fish and then clean up, the fish."_

"Mr. Spencer!"

"_One_,_ two, three, four, five; once I caught a fish alive, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Then I let it go again._

_Why did you let it go?_

_Because it bit my finger so._

_Which finger did he bite?_

_This little finger on the right!"_

Everyone who knew Shawn sighed and shook their heads. The others that didn't quite know him looked at him like he might be crazy.

"What?" Shawn looked at them all as if THEY were crazy. "Anyway.

Dad; you only told me when I got there and found the living room packed with creepy drunken men, that your 'lodge buddies' would be the diners and that I was just your private dietician. And he even threatened some very valuable items right out of my room to get me to stay down there.

Vicky; isn't that blackmail? That's blackmail right? I can have charges put against him because he blackmailed me!"

"Shawn; do you think you should tell them what I was threatening?"

"No! It is a crime what you did and the witness can't be named for privacy sake!"

"I was threatening to chuck out his issues of 'Pineapple Magazine" and all of his 'Pineapple Magazine' merchandise he had collected with every issue for years and years and years." He and Lassiter both rolled their eyes on that one.

"Do I need to remind you what you are here for? Get going with the bloody story please ."

"There will be no language like that in my station Agent Hendrickson!" Broke in chief Vick.

"Do you know who I am...?"

"Okay everyone!" Broke in Lassiter who had had enough of the squabbling. "Spencer just get on with it!"

"Nobody will let me. Oh and dad if I find any of my 'Pineapple Magazine' merchandise missing; I am going to report you."

"What is this 'Pineapple Magazine'? No don't answer that. Okay Spencer we are now letting you continue, so just please, continue. Please!"

"So anyway it was 3am and she handed me a raincoat; even though it wasn't even raining. She's always worrying about things that I'm not."

Everybody looked a little stumped at that choice of wording.

"Who's she?"Asked various people. Shawn rolled his eyes at the fact they couldn't even place THAT reference.

Then Juliet came to Shawn's rescue. "3A.M. by Matchbox 20." Various people rolled their eyes, again.

"That is not music, dude." Came Dean.

"Thank you, Jules!" Shawn spoke; ignoring Dean and the rest. "The whole feeding of creepy men ceremony chewed up my whole day previously and I had only just finished cleaning up when I left to go back to Psych. I was coming down the highway maybe a little too fast when something screamed past me. It happened so fast I wasn't quite sure what it was; but whatever it was kicked up a rock and flung it into my tyre. I was eating bitumen before I could even say holy MotorGP! If you know what I mean.

I had been flung on to the grass on the side of the road so I was okay; just a little bewildered. I just laid on the road for a while; I couldn't be stuffed moving and then I heard a growling. Like evil growling. I then had a vi...vision. It wasn't any dog I'd known before."

***a large black animal sniffing at Shawn's bike***

"It was bigger than any dog I'd ever seen. It came and then sniffed. Then it...howled." He half howled the last word himself.

***big black animal pointing it's head at the moon and howling***

"And that was when Dean here came and rescued me."

***a man appearing out of nowhere with a gun. Gun raises. Shots fired. Big black animal falls to ground***

"The man then ran up to the dog I'm pretty sure it was and then up to me to make sure I was okay."

"Nah I was just wondering how many priers I'd have to light."

"See Dean Winchester has pyromaniac tendencies. Don't you Dean? You love to watch things burn don't you Dean? You kill innocent people all the time and burn them don't you Dean? You dig up graves and burn the bodies don't you Dean?"

"Oh you never mentioned anything about this Dean." Said a nervous Shawn.

"Dude. If I wanted to kill you; I would have done it already."

"You see everybody; this man here is a monster. More of a monster than anything he _thinks _he hunts."

Dean sighed. The FBI man would do and say anything to discredit Dean and make him into a monster. Every person in the room knew it too. But Shawn didn't think he was as bad as Hendrickson said.

"I asked, well kind of yelled, the question of what the fuck was that? Even though I had psychic vibes of what it was, do you want to know what it was?"

Some murmured a yes, others nodded their heads and a few threw their hands as if saying 'we're going to find out sooner or later'.

"Now remember what I said about keeping an open mind? Well it is probably now that you should expand it. The answer is a little unbelievable. I was a little, maybe just a little, shocked when he saved my life and I found out what it was. So remember people: keep an open mind.

But it was Dean who cut in and answered. He spoke in a dead pan voice:

"It was a werewolf. I saved this guy's skinny arse from a werewolf. They are, for some unknown reason, plaguing Santa Barbara. So far I've tracked, hunted and killed about four all ready. But there are still many more out there There may be hundreds right now in Santa Barbra right now."


	3. Thursday 15th, 10:25pm on Wed 14, 48am

A/N: let's for a Friday or Saturday or in I'm late a Sunday post, okay? Or better yet; wait for the weekend.

Okay anyway; sorry for the cliffie. It was probably stupid of me to start another story right before I went back to school. Next week will be week 3. Wow, can't quite believe how fast it's time's gone already. This won't be the only piece of writing I do this weekend either; I have an essay on Che Guevara due on Monday and a 'short' story due. Okay; you didn't really need to know that but it kinda slipped out.

Oh and who else saw the Vancouver opening ceremony? Apparently Bryan Adams sung. Damn! I missed that bit. I love Bryan Adams' music. Can you let me know what he sung? By the way it was funny how one of the cauldron/Fortress of Solitude flame holder prongs didn't rise. :D

Okay and now for the actual update. More Dean oriented chapter. I hope you like.

* * *

Chapter 3.

Still Thursday 15th, 10:25pm. Talking about Wednesday 14th, 4am to 8am --- Dean telling.

Everybody was in stunned silence. The dramatic statement had Juliet covering her mouth in shock and Lassiter to reaching for his gun. Henry had his arms crossed and Vick smoothing her hair. Though he was is silence, Hendrickson wasn't really unnerved at all. The men at the back remained stoic and silent. Even Shawn couldn't help but be a little awed by that drama. Only Dean kept a somewhat cheerful manner.

Finally it was Henry who came to his senses and broke the silence so thick, you could have sliced through it with a knife.

"Okay cut the crap you two! First: Shawn, are you on drugs? Second: Dean, what danger have you been putting my son in!"

"Nothing that he didn't want to be put in. Not my fault you son is an idiot..." A grin, that was just asking for it, snuck on to his face. That irritated Henry.

"Okay I've had enough of this you two dumbarses! Tell me what danger my son has been in!" Henry's arms uncrossed and he raised and waved them around in anger. After a word from Vick, Henry calmed down a little.

"You numbskulls. Tell me what is going on please. And enough of the werewolf crap. We all know you aren't really a..."

'Crap!' Thought Shawn. 'he's going to expose me!' " oh I'm getting something...oh...oh...."

Thankfully people stopped and waited patiently for his antics.

"I'm seeing...a...a...a...a monster?" He raised a discreet eyebrow at Dean that nobody else saw. "And I'm hearing a name. D...Dan? Stan? Sam?"

"My brother is called Sam." Shawn flashed a cocky grin at the interrogates. Dean looked quite surprised.

"You could have told him about your brother already, Dean."

But for once Dean was telling the truth. He hadn't told Shawn about his brother. "I didn't. How did you...?"

"Psychic Dean, look it up."

Dean, suddenly realising he was believing the man, remembered what Shawn had said to him earlier, how he wasn't _really_ a psychic, well Dean had worked out that one for himself since he had a real psychic for a brother. And he realised that he was playing the others in the room. He shoved the memory of spontaneous beliefs down with his other temporary beliefs he had had; like of Santa, the Easter Bunny and Godzilla. But then he twigged at something. Monster? Had he said monster?

"Monster? What monster?"

"Why Dean; your brother is taking care of other werewolves in the area isn't he?"

He wasn't. Dean actually hadn't seen or heard of Sam in the last few days. But it was possible that it had been a fallout between the two and that they'd only stay angry at each other for so long. But what Shawn had said had chilled him to the bone and he was suddenly very worried for his sibling's safety. He of course wouldn't show it. He realised he was waiting to long to answer so he used the best single word he could think of.

"Maybe." Hendrickson cocked his head to the side and smiled.

"You have no real idea where your brother is do you?"

Dean hesitated; then answered truthfully. "No."

Hendrickson decided to use this to his advantage. "Perhaps you would like to ring him?"

"And give his position away; how dumb do you think I am?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, Dean?"

"No."

Everybody fell silent. Then after a few minutes of non verbal communication; it was Lassiter who broke the silence.

"So what happened after you saved Shawn from the 'werewolves'?"

"Werewolf. There was only one dog that attacked him."

"Okay; so what happened after you saved Shawn from the were_wolf_?"

"Okay. After I shot the wolf I made sure that this guy was okay and that the wolf was dead. I dragged it off the road out of sight then dragged you into some light. I thought that Shawn might have a concussion or something. He didn't. But at first he was muttering something about pineapples."

Henry rolled his eyes. If you wanted Shawn to do something all you would have to do was dangle a piece of pineapple above his head and Shawn would do anything. Well most anything. It hadn't made him clean his room for one. Henry had droned out but Dean was talking again.

"...was in love with my care I think. But then again; who couldn't be?"

"I was not 'in love' with your care Dean; I was merely commenting on how shiny it was. Anyway; my bike is way sweeter.

"That bike is a deathtrap Shawn. You managed to crash it!"

"No dad; it is the werewolves that are deathtraps. Not my bike."

Vick had heard this argument before and she knew it would drag on for hours of she didn't step in. "Okay; enough of the bike, Mr. Spencer. Now is not the time to argue about it. Now please Mr. Winchester; continue."

Dean sighed. This was one reason he always kept out of large groups; they were always complaining and arguing. Not that his small little on fringe family were really any better. But his Impala was way better than just a crappy motorcycle. He sighed again and continued.

"Having him complaining about his bike getting wrecked was terrible. Though being a car person; I guess I could relate to it. But he winged all the way to the hospital."

"I told him I didn't want to go to a hospital." Shawn squirmed uncomfortably and muttered something in Danish.

"But I didn't want to have to take care of him so that is why I left him there to whinge to the nurses. But when we got there I realised I had something bigger to take care of." Dean left it hanging dramatically.

"What happened?" Asked Juliet.

"The hospital was getting a patient in through the ER with severe lacerations and blood loss so we were directed to the waiting room. We went up to a front desk and we waited for nearly two? Three hours. Shawn 'entertained'me with his farm animal impressions that were all in Spanish. Who knew cows mooed in Spanish? Until we were called up I was going to leave..." Shawn cut in rudely.

"I wanted him to leave." Dean smirked at that.

"I was going to leave but there seemed something odd was going on. Once Shawn was being taken care of; I pulled out my 'doctor' ID card and pretended I was a doctor who was admitting him and that I wanted to have a closer look at the patient who had come in here bleeding..."

"How many times a day do hospitals get _bleeding _patients, Dean?" Shawn asked sarcastically.

"Shut up you idiot. In regards to another bloody patient that had come in five minutes before that had similar cuts and lacerations as the one before."

"Do you know what name he used to get in?" A few of the interrogators looked mildly interested.

"No." Growled Dean.

"Dr. Griventroppie Venscelatyazza." They all looked at each other a little puzzled. Did Shawn just make that up? Possibly. Juliet was a little more curious because after all; it was a peculiar name.

"What? Did you just make that up Shawn?"

"Did I just make that up? No! When do I ever lie? Anyway I hear Griventroppie Venscelatyazza is a very respected name in some part of the world. I think. I hope. Probably not. But it was Dean who came up with this one. "

Lassiter, Juliet, Vick and Henry, the most, was willing to name a thousand different times and places when Shawn Spencer had lied. You could say he was one step from being a pathological liar.

"I am not a pathological liar!" Juliet shuddered; only he would have been able to read her mind.

"Whether you are a pathological liar is still in debate, Mr. Spencer; but at the moment you are wasting my time."

Gee, Shawn seemed to be wasting loads of Hendrickson's time. 'Good.' Thought Lassiter. 'I don't like him. Even less than Spencer.' Shawn shot him a grin nobody else saw except Lassiter. Lassiter shot a snarky look back; one which everyone saw and gave him back funny looks; Shawn included.

"So while Shawn was playing check up at the doctors; I talked went down to the morgue where I was guessing the latest dead person had gone. So I started chatting up the coroner, very fine she was I may add, who had said that this was their fourth such victim in a week. Rumours of animal attacks have been circulating the Santa Barbara district all month; which is what brought me south from Siskiyou where I was taking care of a little witch problem; and sent their magic arses to hell!" Dean turned to Juliet and put on the sweetest smile he could. He could see junior detective was threatening to melt and she knew it. He decided the next sentence might make her literally melt right in front of everyone. "And liberated black kittens, puppies, bunnies and various defenceless reptiles from those nasty bitches!"

Juliet couldn't help herself. She mouthed 'Thank you' to him. She was after all; a cat person.

"Was Sam with you?" Inquired a curious Hendrickson.

"Why would I tell you that?"

Hendrickson just smiled in response.

"So where was he Dean? You had never mentioned him to me before." Shawn looked at Dean.

"That because he wan't your business." Dean snarled in return.

"But honestly; what happened. It's funny too because I haven't seen Gus for a few days either."

"Who's Gus?"

"Bruton Gaster is my best friend since we were eight."

"Describe him please." Dean suddenly felt cold; something wasn't right.

"Who; Gus?" Shawn was intrigued.

"No the Man on the Moon, yes 'Gus'."

"Umm; well he's a roughly 5 ft. choc chip cookie with the shortest hair before you could be called bald and he drives around in this quaint little baby car which is bright blue."

"Ah; Shawn. I think I know where your friend is."

"Where?"

"Your friend is in danger; and so is my brother."

* * *

A/N: Dramatic, no? I'm truly sorry if I'm completely off in regards to geography and measurement or really just about anything in this story. My excuse is I have never been to any part of America and I live on the other side of the world. Before you praise me for my 'good' Engrish I'm in an 'Engrish' speaking place. Guess where I am!


	4. Friday 16th, Early Morning

A/N: A reviewer said to me that it was nice that I was doing this while juggling homework. I very much appreciated that statement; it was very thoughtful of them to say that. But the reality has just began to dawn on me. You get a hell of a lot more homework in Year 10 than Year 9! And since I'm going a Year 11 subject; that kind of too precedence over this. I'm sorry I made you wait two weeks and I'm not planning to make this a bad habit. I want to, no I need to finish this in four or so weeks; because at the end of this term guess what; I'm going overseas! So expect maybe a few more semi rushed updates for a little while. I want to finish this soon and I now have a some what storyline. The first few chapters were just winging. So with out much more crap; you want to actually read this.

This chapter may be a little weird and now after I've finished writing it; is actually a lot darker than I originally intended. So read on your own risk! But enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 4.

Friday 16th, sometime early in the morning. Sam and Gus.

"So Dean is your brother, huh?"

"Yeah. You have a brother?"

"Nah; I have a sister. Joy. Lawyer."

"I was almost a lawyer, you know?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'm a pharmaceutical salesman."

"Good for you."

"Yeah. I am glad you have such a high respect for the job and for me for taking it."

"Yeah, uhuh. Now Gus is it?"

Gus nodded.

"I need you not talk for the moment okay Gus?"

Gus nodded again.

Burton Guster and Sam Winchester were currently chained to the ceiling and their hands were hitched above them. They were trying to fool their captors with making them think they were just passing the time with idle chitchat. They both knew that their captors weren't buying it.

But Sam could not remember anything of the past few days and he doubted that Gus remembered much either. All they, or really he, could do was to wait and try to find an escape route. If there was one. But at the moment he wasn't all that hopeful.

Sam was worried about his brother Dean. After he'd taken care of a little witch problem in Siskiyou, he had gone down further south to Santa Barbara to take care of a growing werewolf problem. But they way Dean had said there may be hundreds in Santa Barbara didn't sit right with Sam. There was more going on there than was apparent.

As Sam told Gus to shut up; he strategically stretched and tugged his chains. Nothing; damn. Gus started to hyperventilate. The real reason for the crapping on was to keep Gus calm. Sam had only just got him to stop screaming.

"So Gus; what's your sister like?"

"She's good. At the moment she's in New York."

"New York. Alway's wanted to spend a bit more time there."

"You've never spent time there?"

"Oh I've spent time there alright." Sam's voice was going up as he strained and pulled. "In fact I worked a case there. Not pretty. Glad to be out." The chains clanked and jangled.

"So do the government pay you for ridding these creatures?"

"Well first off, arghhhhh," Groaned Sam. "we don't work for the government. Second of all we don't _just _hunt creatures. We hunt ghosts, spirits, demons, witches."

"You're damn right shaggy." Came a distinctly feminine voice from the barred metal door of the dank, dark, wet slimy cell the two were suspended in. At least they could touch the ground with there feet.

"If he is shaggy; that does NOT make me Scooby Doo!" Yelled an irritated Gus.

"No I was thinking a little more along the lines of you being Daphne, Gus." The female voice hissed. "Of course that could also make you Velma, Sam."

"Okay that's enough of that. Who are you?"

"Oh come on Sam; don't get all serious me. After of your brother, I was in high hopes that you would be equal in terms of humour. Don't let me be disappointed. " Her voice sulked.

The woman was still concealed in darkness so that neither Gus, nor Sam could see who they were dealing with.

"Look; want so you want from me!" Cried Gus who started to get a little hysterical. "Is it money? I can get you money! I don't a lot of it; but I bet he does!" Motioning to Sam. "Yeah! Take his money and then let me go!" He couldn't help it; Gus started to sob.

While Sam rolled his eyes; the woman continued:

"Oh there, there my friend. I don't want your money."

"You don't?" Gus wasn't sure wether to be relieved or scared shitless as he timidly asked that question.

"No." Her velvet voice whispered. "Do you wanna know what I want?" She teased.

"I...I." Gus didn't quite know whether he wanted to know or not. Luckily Sam jumped in.

"Gus; don't answer that!" Then he turned to the voice in the shadows. "You don't talk to him; he talk to me! You understand?"

The feminine voice giggled.

"Now you are going to tell me who you are."

The voice once again giggled. "Oh silly Sammy; don't you know who I am?"

"I think I have a pretty good idea about WHAT you are? The question is; am I right?"

"Oh I think you're right there smarty pants. Just like your big brother Dean! No I think you're more the intelligent half of the stick, don't you agree? I mean you went to Harved. That's a pretty good indication about whether you are brainy or not." The giggles started again.

But Sam had lost concentration. Did she just say something about his brother. "Have you met my brother?"

"Blondish hair, green eyes, short, stupid grin?" She teased. Yeah she knew him alright; but she wasn't ready for this accusation.

"Where is he then! What have you done to him!" Sam knew Dean would blow a lung at all this chick flick moments Sam was pulling, but Sam could not help it.

"Oh I haven't done anything with your precious sibling. I'd like to say different though. Your brother is a mean piece of work; wrapped up in a cuddly blanket of course."

Sam could just imagine her cooing in the shadows over Dean. That made him feel sick. "So he got away?"

"Yeah he got away after taking down my sisters but that's okay. I am the only one left so I have my right to avenge my sisters."

Gus chose that minute to jump into the conversation. " Your brother _killed _ your sisters!"

"Gus; they aren't her actual sisters." Huffed Sam.

"Well on the contrary, Sam. In this case they were." She smoothly muttered.

"So Dean tracked you here did he?" Asked Sam.

"No I was out on business," Gus shuddered. He hate to know what 'business' meant. "and Dean followed my sisters home." The woman concluded.

"How did you know it was Dean?" Asked Sam. Right now, for a lot more than he was willing to admit, Sam wished he had free hands to brush his sweaty fringe out of his eyes. In fact if Sam had his hands free he wouldn't be here and neither would be that woman. He struggled to get his hands free and when that didn't work he shook his head. But the sweat and hair equals plaster Sam found out.

"He was asking around for us. Looking in places he shouldn't be."

Sam knew defiantly that the woman was telling the truth on that one. He even grunted in understanding.

"So you see; we were just minding our own business and he comes along and kills us."

"Yeah; well you're evil. I know what you are now."

"Oh really what do you think I am? And how does what I do is evil in comparison to what you do?"

"My brother and I save people."

"By killing others."

"Killing others who were killing people!"

"Why does everyone have to kill each other?" Sobbed Gus.

"Shut it, Gus!" Both of them yelled simultaneously at Gus.

"Okay going back to the original question. Who or probably better what are you?" Sam demanded.

"Why don't we ask Mr. Guster here this question?"

Gus looked up frightened and shook his head erratically.

"Come on Mr. Guster," she teased. "what do you think I am?"

Gus couldn't help it; he started to scream!

Sam could hear her sigh over Gus' screaming and he sighed himself involuntarily. When they got out of all this mess Sam would have to admit to Gus that he had the highest pitched scream he had ever heard. Man or woman.

"Where are we?" This just suddenly popped into his head. In all the time he had been captive he had not once wondered where he was.

"Don't you know?" She prattled on.

"Apparently not."A confused Sam stated.

"Oh I thought you may not remember. That's one of the 'symptoms', I guess you may call it, of the spell I used on you."

"But what does that have to do with me?" Shrieked Gus; who Sam had almost but completely forgot.

"You you sugar plum just happened to in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was Samuel Winchester I was after. And I have what I want out of you by the way."

Suddenly the events began to swarm into his mind like a hive of bees that had lost its hive. "You! You are the witch that is behind this all! You magically 'drugged' us and kidnapped us to get my dad's journal!"

"Well you're wrong about one thing."

"What?"

"You aren't in possession of you're dad's journal, Sam; FBI Agent Victor Hendrickson has it."

"What, how?" He wasn't expecting that one.

"Try Shawn Spencer. A so called 'psychic'. Though we really know who the 'real' psychic is don't we Sammy?"

Gus picked up on that. "You're a psychic? Great now I have to deal with TWO bullshit artists!"

"So why kidnap me, witch? What do you have to gain by taking me?" Sneered Sam.

"Oh many things Sam. You see you underestimate yourself like something shocking. You are worth a lot to a lot of people, or really 'demons' may be a better word. Though there are many who seek revenge. Including me."

"So what hag, you're gonna sell me to the highest bidder?"

"No I'm intending to keep you."

"And what good will that do?"

"It's gonna be so much fun watching you face when you see your brother dead, DEAD! Just like my face....DEAD!"

That angered Sam and he couldn't contain himself and he launched himself at the witch in the shadows. He screamed when all the slack was used and he dangled from his wrists. His knees bent under him. His bare feet dragging across the floor cutting it, and now bleeding. All the while as the metal shackles cut through the soft flesh of his wrists. Sam was unconscious.

The witch began to cackle.

"Sam!" Yelled Gus as he tried and failed to help Sam. His time working as a pharmaceutical salesman had taught him that Sam needed stitches or to at least stem the bleeding as an infection was likely to come.

The witch kept on cackling in the shadows; offering no assistance.

"I'll tell you one more thing Sammy boy. Your brother will find that he will need many more silver bullets if he wants to save himself...or Shawn Spencer."

She cackled again and turned tail leaving Sam: losing blood so fast he would soon be cactus and Gus: who knew that he was in a lot of trouble and that it was HIS job to keep this Sam alive and himself, alive.

"Shit." Muttered Gus.

* * *

A/N: Oh I am evil aren't I? By the way; 'cactus' means 'dead' is more colourful and interesting way. That was a little darker wasn't it? Sorry of it isn't your taste. But hey did rate it as I did because I thought it may come to this.

One last thing...review! Please I have only a few and like hundreds of people around the world from countries I've never heard of are reading this and yet no one is telling me what they think!

Okay; now that's off my chest.

Off now for tea and then more homework. Oh and tomorrow I have food and I'm making my very own garlic pita bread! YUM!

G'nite!


	5. Friday 16th, 3:20am

A/N: Okay so it was actually today that I made my garlic pita bread. And I gave some to my English teacher, (would that be a bribe?) and now she wants me to write up the recipe. Only thing is I invented it as I went along. Kinda like this story (ooops; did I say that out loud?)

* * *

Chapter 5

Friday 16th, 3:20am. Shawn and Dean.

The interrogation had been ugerned after 12am when Vick had got a hurried call from her husband about her daughter. That was really the only reason why the interrogators and interrogatees found out it was so late. Vick, Juliet and Henry had left. Leaving Shawn and Dean to fight Lassiter, Hendrickson and the other men in black.

Shawn and Dean settled themselves into their metal reinforced chairs and tried to get a little shut eye. Now wasn't the time to try to escape; but sleep. Though because Hendrickson stayed in the room all night; it was hard to actually settle down into any kind of slumber. So Shawn took the opportunity to 'entertain' those in the room. Lassiter vacated the room in favour of his desk to get away from Shawn's antics. Shawn, at first, tried to rally people up into exchanging 'spooky' stories because he had a few himself to tell, but then he realised he wouldn't win the competition with Dean the Hunter of Evil around.

Shawn then tried to convince Hendrickson to go get a bed sheet to play 'ghosts' with them. He also suggested shadow puppets. And he very almost got to play a game of 'Murder in the Dark' in which he knew he probably wouldn't win; but would be awesome none the less.

Finally the idiot dropped off to sleep and Dean had a somewhat 'civilised' conversation between Hendrickson and himself. They exchanged stories about what had been going on and where they had been. While the conversation seemed friendly to an outsider; there was a very subtle ferocity and menace in each persons' words. Subtle, but there.

Just before first at 3:15am, Hendrickson's phone rang; waking everybody who had been dozing. The agent slipped out of the room and Dean decided to use this opportunity to talk to the idiot who was trying to to smooth his hair while being handcuffed and chained to the table they were sitting at.

"Oy; Shawn." Dean whispered. There was a chance someone may be watching through the two way mirror so he kept his voice down.

"Yah? Oh and good morning to you Dean. Did you sleep as well as I did? Of course you did. Now tell me Dean; did you dream of me?" Shawn's voice rose into to a sultry tone on that last question.

Dean looked at him disgusted. "You dog." Was all he decided to say. He then decided to brush the Shawn's questions under the couch for now and get on with the important ones. "Shawn; is there anyone watching through the mirror?"

Shawn took a quick glance at the window and turned back to the window. "Nah. There isn't."

"It's not often I ask this; but how can you see through the window?"

"Well I can't." Dean couldn't help it; he rolled his eyes. "I sense, psychically..."

"Shawn I know you know I know that you aren't really psychic." He huffed out in a raised voice.

"Any louder and those creepy guys, or maybe even Lassie might here you! And I can not be caught!"

"Cut the crap dude." Dean said without sympathy. When he sensed that Shawn was about to send another wave of winging to Dean; Dean decided to get onto an important train of conversation. "Okay enough of that. Now I wanted to take this opportunity to talk to you privately."

"Okay. Hit me." When Dean started to raise his right fist he burst out. "No not literally Rambo!" The Shawn twigged something. "Hey if you're Rambo, does that make me Colonel Samuel Trautman?"

"No." Grunted Dean. "So getting back on track. I need to get out of here and go find my brother."

"Cool! I'm coming with you!" And he stood erect so fast that he was soon falling back into his chair because of the chain. "Damn chain!"

"No; you are not coming with me." Dean was very stern on this. But of course did Shawn hear the sternness? No; of course not.

"But Dean. Gus is possibly with your brother in a possibly horrible situation."

"We don't know that." Shawn heard the subtle tone of worry in Dean's voice. "But what I do know; is that I need to get my dad's diary."

"Your dad's diary?" This was an unexpected turn.

"Yeah my dad's diary." Shawn waited for explanation. Dean sighed and continued. "Ever since my mum died back when I was four and Sammy a baby. My dad had been writing down everything he knew, saw, encountered in his life. Along with theories and letters and cases. He gave it to us when he first disappeared so we would have his knowledge on everything supernatural and freaking awesome."

"That does sound awesome. Does it contain spells to turn average pineapples (though they don't _really_ exist) into extraordinary super-dooper pineapples?"

"No."

"Oh. Well that's an anticlimax. What's the point of a spell book if you can't change the properties of pineapples for the better?"

"It isn't a spell book, Spencer."

"Then what is it exactly?"

"Think of it as an unalphabeticaltised encyclopaedia of all things that go 'bump' in the night."

"Oooooo!" Ghosted Shawn as he waved his handcuffed hands mysteriously in the air. "Think Twilight Zone, Dean! Or Amazing Stories!"

"No!" Huffed out Dean again. This time rolling his eyes. "Okay back on track _again."_

"You know Dean?"

"No we are _not_ doing this right now Shawn."

"Nah; come on! Honestly Dean; if I were a girl," Dean snorted back laughter. Shawn continued a little hurt. "I would have suggested you become an actor under the name 'Eric Brady' or maybe 'Jason Teague'." Shawn winked suggestively at Dean.

"Okay that's it. I've had enough of you. I'm going to confess." He started to stand up but remembering he was still chained to the desk he sat back down again. 'Great... I'm forced to sit next to this idiot'. He sighed and sorted himself out. "Okay Shawn. I am going to lay down a few land rules. 1. Don't interrupt! 2. Do what I say. 3. Don't tell these people anything unless I tell you too. 4. Enough of the stupid comments and conversation topics!"

While Shawn sussed over that; Dean examined the handcuffs. He knew the best where to jiggle the lock and with what to pick it with. Pity thought that no one had left any paperclips. He was stuck for now.

"What are you doing Dean?" Asked Shawn when he saw Dean playing and inspecting the handcuffs.

"I'm trying to get them off, Shawn. But it's a little difficult to pick a lock without anything to pick it with!"

"What kind of thing would you need? You know to pick a lock? Maybe I might have something."

"A key would be preferable?" Shawn shook his head. "A paperclip?" Shawn shook his head again. Dean hesitated before asking the next one. "A hair clip?" Shawn looked at him and, in an embarrassed way, nodded his head. "You don't...?"

"I do." Shawn corrected meekly. "It's, um, in my jeans pocket." He indicated with his nose.

"You never thought to tell me?" Dean didn't even _want _to know.

"You never asked." And Shawn didn't want to tell him. You might call it a long story.

"Okay." Dean fished it out with difficulty. But once he had it, he was out of the chains under 30 seconds flat.

"How did you...?" Dean cut him off.

"Do you think I'm a hunter of evil an _not _know how to pick locks?"

"Well maybe. Okay so what's the plan?"

"The plan is for you to stay here. I'm gonna sneak out and you will never see me again."

"But Dean the door is locked and if I'm here they're gonna torture me until I tell them where you went. Even if I don't know where you went! And if I go then I can't ever come back to Jules!" He broke down and pretended to sob. "Or my dad. But then again; that might be not that bad." He leaned his head to the side contemplating the idea. "I guess I go live with my mum in secret."

'Oh boy.' Thought Dean. "Well you're right about one thing. The door is locked." He discovered after jiggling the door handle. "And as much as I hate to say it; I think you're right about them 'hurting' you until you give in. Any ideas?" Shawn smiled.

***

3:40am. Lassiter.

Lassiter had been dozing at his desk when he heard a scream. A high pitched girly scream that could have only come from one person. "Spencer!" Yelled Lassiter as he jumped out of his seat and drew out his gun.

He ran down the hall and the stairs until he finally got to the interrogation room where the suspects were being held.

He cocked his gun ready and threw open the door. The very first thing he saw was Shawn Spencer the 'psychic' bloodied up. He had blood streaming from his hair and lip and it looked like he was already unconscious. "Spencer!" Yelled out Lassiter as he lowered his gun and stepped into the room cautiously; he did not see the FBI' agent's prisoner until a chair came crashing down on his head from behind and he turned to see a grim smile staring down upon him. 'Great.' Though Lassiter as he was descending into darkness. 'It would be a chair that stopped me wouldn't it?'

***

4:30am. Dean.

Dean finally stopped running when he was well out of the way of Santa Barbara. He held his dad's diary under one arm as he collapsed under a tree on the side of the road; out of sight.

Dean started to flick through it. He needed to understand what was going on. Shawn Spencer would be okay. He knocked him out and bruised it up to make it look like Shawn wasn't involved in the escape. It had all been Shawn's idea. Once Shawn screamed convincingly; someone was bound to come and have a look. Once they opened the door, Dean knocked them out and having the door now unlocked and being so early in the morning; he knew it was now relatively easy to slip out. And what made it even better was the fact that Dean had Lassiter's gun. Meaning he was armed and not naked.

Dean continued to flick through the pages; all with a story to tell. Some made him smile and even laugh like the pass hunts that Dean had been on or the pictures of Sam and him as young boys screwing about in a lake. But some made him sniffle and even made a few tears slid down his face, not that anybody would ever find out, like letters from his dad to his mum, and cases that hadn't gone so well when Sam had been seriously hurt and even a photo of John and Mary Winchester a young couple holding baby Samuel with four year old Dean clutching at Mary's leg. Dean hurriedly turned through those pages fast because he would not be seen having a 'chick flick' moment.

Dean was a little frustrated that he hadn't found anything yet until he came upon a strange article about many wild dog attacks in and around Siskiyou; the place where he had killed those witches. With 'Siskiyou' circled. Suddenly all the cogs started turning in Dean's mind as he worked it out. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but he must have missed one of the witches and that was what was behind the werewolf activity.

It didn't explain where his brother or the psychic's friend was but at least he knew a way to end off the people dying in Santa Barbara. Cursing he had left the car in a Santa Barbara motel carpark; he set off at a jog towards Siskiyou.

He wished that the spectacular sunrise above him gave him more hope than what he had already.

* * *

A/N: with me going on an overseas holiday in less than three weeks I realised that I needed to go somewhere with this story; so I decided to have an action chapter.

Please don't hate Dean for busting up Shawn's face. If he hadn't; then Shawn would have been blamed! And I hope you like a bit of Lassie in there too. :)

I hope you like this chapter! Thank you for reading and if you were so kind; thank you for reviewing. Though I do like to personally reply to those who review!


	6. Friday 16th, 9pm

A/N: exactly 13 days until I leave for England for 8 weeks!

* * *

Chapter 6.

Friday 16th, 9pm. Sam and Gus.

Sam had woken up in the day and was drowsily hanging; though he was more aware then before. He thought that the witch must have cast a spell on him because he didn't usually pass out like that.

When Gus saw that he was now conscience and lucid he was relieved.

"Thank God you're awake! I thought you were dead and I thought I was going to die and...." Gus' voice rose until it was unintelligible and Sam in his already weakened state didn't hear a word of it.

"What? Why? Where? Dean?" Sam was quite disoriented. And Gus was quite freaked after being the only one awake for over 24 hours.

"Sam; it's me Gus! You have to get me out of here, man!"

"It's gonna be nnnn 'k" Muttered Sam. "'s there any water?"

"No; I haven't seen that creepy woman since, not that we saw her in the first place anyway."

"Now Gus; I need you to listen very carefully." Gus nodded frantically. "We need to get out of here and find my brother and make sure he's okay."

"But you're not okay."

Sam realised that his position wasn't helping the civilian keep calm and he needed to man up. Sam stopped just drooping on his chains; he stood up straight and looked coldly at his surroundings. The blood and the sweat still plastered his fringe to his forehead making it difficult to see. The movement he made caused the sensation of warm blood dripping down his arms. He grunted and tried not to think about it.

"Dude; that's a lot of blood." Gus pointed out.

'Great.' Thought Sam. 'I really need you to point that out; thank you!'

"Sam; you do have a plan don't you?"

"Of course I do, of course I do. I just need to think a little bit." Gus nodded and fell silent.

Nobody spoke for nigh on 20 minutes when the creepy cackling returned.

"Oh no! That witch is back! Sam the witch is back!" Screamed Gus.

"What do you want?" Sam demanded into the shadows where the sinister laughing came from.

The laughing became louder and more deafening.

"Tell me; what do you want?" Sam yelled louder.

Gus whimpered as the sound bounced off the dank stone walls and hit him as if it was a solid object. Sam stood erect not touched by it and demanded one more time.

"What the hell do you want old hag?" The cackling instantly stopped. And Gus learned the true meaning of the phase "Silence is Deafening."

No noise passed through the damp air except for Gus' accelerated breathing.

"What are you calling an old hag there, sweety?" The witch asked sweetly.

"You! Only a witch wouldn't face her opponent. Preference to stay in the shadows; are you really that ugly?" Sam goaded her.

Gus looked up in surprise at the choice of insults. "Uh Sam; now may not be the time to insult her beauty." He whispered.

"Good, good, Gus." Then they heard footsteps coming from the opposite direction they thought the laughter had come from. The men were facing the other way. "Missed me darling?" As Gus felt a surprisingly soft hand touch his bald head. "So smooth. Not like that hairy monster." Gus wasn't quite sure what to think.

Then she walked in front of them and Gus was very surprised. Where he had been expecting the old evil stepmother from Snow White, out stepped a very young small girl of maybe 16. Her pitch black hair curled halfway down her back and her eyes glowed a peridot colour. She wore the most enchanting smile Gus had even seen. For a moment; Gus forgot she was a witch. But Sam knew what she was doing.

"Stop it! I know what you are doing." Sam yelled as Gus got a goofy grin.

Her smile grew; trying to draw Sam under her spell. "Do you now, sweetheart? That's lovely. Maybe Gus here would like me to cast a spell on him. Would you?" Gus nodded his head eagerly and then started to laugh manically.

Sam saw what she was doing to Gus and he had to break her hold on him. Using all his strength he swung back and kicked her with as much force as he could muster. She flew back at least two metres and skidded on her back for her head to collide with the wall and come to a complete stop.

Gus came out of the trance and fainted.

All the witch's charm was gone as she got up; her black lacy clothes ripped and rumpled and her silky black hair all ruffled up into a birds nest. "You will PAY for that!" She pulled out a previously concealed knife and ran at Sam as he used his upper body strength to get his legs up for another kick.

This time it wasn't as affective and she managed to get her blade into his knee. He muffled a cry as he kicked her again and again. The cuts in his wrist where metal meet flesh were streaming and he knew he was in serious trouble here. If a major vein was cut; it would be over.

Suddenly she flew under Sam's feet while a boom echoed through the whole dungeon.

The boom woke up Gus. "Oh my God! Oh my god!"

But there was another voice. "Sammy? Sammy!" And the older hunter came running in. He shot the witch one more time before throwing the shot gun and embracing his brother. "Sammy!" He said a third time.

"Dude get me out of this chains." Dean then went on a search for a key to open up the two padlocks restraining Sam and Gus. When he found nothing; he picked up the gun and blasted the chains until both Sam and Gus were free.

He then set them on the floor and check any injuries. Gus didn't have any significant ones so he attended to his brother first. "You know Sammy; if those chains had of cut any deeper; I'd be burning your arse." He joked.

"God that's reassuring Dean, thanks."

"No worries. That's what I'm here for!" He laughed and then coughed on a dry throat. Dean went looking for water and came back and hydrated the two.

"Oh that's good." Then Gus realised that he didn't remember this short, kinda rugged handsome man and he also just realised what the man had just done. "Who are you? You, you just killed that girl! You, you're crazy!" Gus tried to stand up and make a run for it until Dean pushed him back down.

"My name is Dean; I'm Sam's brother, and that 'girl', jeez she was young wasn't she?, was a witch trying to kill you and my brother which is something that I will not tolerate." He ended the introduction with a cocky grin and a handshake that Gus confusedly returned. "And just for the record; you are?"

"I'm Burton Guster; a pharmaceutical salesman. If I had a card with me I'd give you one; but I don't think I have one with me." Gus quickly checked his pockets and surprisingly; he found one. "Wow; I didn't think I'd have one. Well here you go."

"Ah...thanks." Dean stuffed it in his pockets. "Burton Guster, hey? Do you know one Shawn Spencer?"

"Shawn? Yes he's my best friend! How is he? Is he...no he can't be dead!" Sam and Dean exchanged eye rolls. "What happened to him? You didn't kill him did you?"

Dean sighed and told Gus and his brother about the adventure, or lack of, he had for the past few days and how it was Shawn who had got Hendrickson's attention in the first place when he stole the diary. He ended with the fact that he had to convincingly knock out the fake psychic and he had just run here flat out.

Gus thought about challenging Dean over the rough handling of his best friend; but after what he had done to the Sabrina he decided against it and would challenge it later.

Returning his attention to Sam; Dean ripped off his shirt sleeves and made into makeshift bandages for Sam's wrists. "You know; you're gonna need stitches for them."

"Yeah later. But for now can we get out of here?"

"I agree." Dean nodded. "But we're gonna have to torch this bitch first."

The three men stood up and walked out of the dungeon. Sam was the only one actually injured; but he had had worse, a lot worse, but he limped a little bit because of the witch's blade into the knee.

The three searched the witch's home because at the end of the dungeon, was a staircase and at the top of the staircase was a perfect apple pie life house. Except maybe for the girl's parents stuffed in the broom cupboard. Gus nearly feinted again he found them.

But the came across salt and cans of petrol out the back and soon had girl, mum and dad a cooking in the dungeon and so forgot about them as they explored the house.

They decided that Shawn wasn't in danger where he was at the Santa Barbara police station and they decided to stay the night in the girl's house. It was amazing how all through the rest of the house it was a poster for an American Dream ad until they got to the girl's bedroom. Gus' intense love for cute, furry bunnies got the best of him when they found a ghastly sight and he feinted and fell flat on his back.

"Why is it always the bunnies?" Asked Dean as he took in the sights of the girl's room; which was made even more ghastly with a Jonas Brother's and an Edward Cullen poster sticky taped to the wall.

They set the unconscious Gus on to the parents' queen double bed and left him there while the brothers went back to carefully search the room for any clues as what was going on.

And then Sam found it: "Dean!"

"What?" Dean came over worried.

"You said that Santa Barbara is plagued with werewolves?"

"Yeah."

Sam held up a book written in an obscure language. "This is Ancient Greek; lycans are dated back there. The myological beast is said to be 'wolf men'. The witch said that you killed her sisters Dean."

"Yeah I did; must not have got them all."

"She sent them in revenge."

"Yeah. But how did she control them?"

Sam held up a second book, an amulet and a grail of blood. "My guess is that what's the rabbit's are for."

"Bastards." Muttered Dean.

"Dean. We can't break this spell. The only ones that can are witches"

"Or psychics?"

"Dean not me; but I suppose others with some kind of evil powers...?"

"I wasn't thinking of you; I was thinking of Shawn Spencer"

"The idiot who pretends to be a psychic?

"Yeah. Maybe."

"But that's for tomorrow; for now I'm stuffed." Sam agreed big time.

The went and found places to sleep and after laying down salt lines and raiding the pantry; the two brothers went and succumbed to sleepiness; tomorrow was another day.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked this. :)


	7. Saturday 17th, 8:30am

A/N: time's really closing in and I can still think of places to go with this story. I go in about 3 or so days. Yikes! Oh and just changed when Psych is set in; sorry. No think s3 and beyond. This chapter has a lot more action than talking as usual.

* * *

Chapter 7.

Saturday 17th, 8:30am. Shawn.

When Shawn came to, he found himself in one of the holding cells of the police station; on a bed. His head throbbed more than he could remember it ever throbbing before. That monster hunter had sure given him a good one, the thought grumpily. Then he suddenly remembered the past events and very much hoped that Dean had gotten away. But he was also very concerned over whether he would be blamed or not for Dean's escape. For his sake he better not be blamed or he knew he could go to prison for a very, very long time.

Shawn sat up until he was fully supporting his weight. He touched his face and found multiple bandages and thought that they hadn't even had the decency to take him to a hospital and get him checked out. After all; he had probably been out for longer than 24 hours and that had to warrant some kind of concern from someone; and he was a little bit disappointed that maybe even Jules hadn't stood up for him.

He stood up and wandered over to the bars of the cell and hollered down the holding cell block.

"Hey! Hey! Anyone out there?" There was no noise or movement; save the drunk sleeping it off in the next cell. Shawn's bladder suddenly released a surprise that had Shawn running to the 'toilet'. "Ah; shit." As he felt the wetness in his jeans. Then he directed his attention to the outside world. "Hey! If you are there please come here. I need more pants!"

"Don't we all." Muttered the drunk as he rolled over and slipped back into slumber once more.

Shawn sat down as the hours dragged on as nobody came to check on him or anything.

More hours passed....Shawn knew he could get out of the cell if he needed to; but he wasn't sure what he would do. He'd be in a lot of trouble if he got busted and he'd be spending mega time in jail. But on the pro side of busting out was that the Santa Barbara Police Station was never this quiet and that was worrying. There wasn't even that scary FBI agent demanding to know where Dean was. Shawn sat there for a few more minutes and finally he could not just stay here when there was something very much wrong.

Shawn threw all caution to the wind and rushed over to the lock. He had given Dean only one of his stowed away hair pins. The real reason of the hair pins being in his pocket was that they were Abigail's and he had found them in his bed one night. Luckily he had found two pins; one for Dean and the other for his own escape. He slipped it out of his jeans pockets and straightened it out. The he snapped it until he had two metal prongs each one and a half inches long. He then just stuck his hands through the bars and with some difficulty, stuck out his head too, trying very carefully not to get stuck. After jiggling the prongs in the lock for a few minutes; nowhere as quick or effective as Dean had, the door of his cage swung open. Shawn cried out in triumph for a second before he realised that this could still be a trap and he may still get in big trouble for this.

Shawn then sneaked out and crossed the threshold of no return. Using the skills of stealth that Henry had taught him as a kid when he was once playing with Gus in a game of hide and seek; he made it up into the main lobby office place where Lassy's, Jule's and Vick's desks were. There was no movement. None at all. Shawn could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise. There was something very troubling going on and he had no idea what it was.

Curiosity got the better of him as he yelled again. His voice eerily echoed all around him. Shawn then took off at a gallop around the building until he determined there was no one, absolutely no one.

He digested that and suddenly realised that there was a world beyond the police station which was what he had been telling Jule's for years, but it only clicked into his head then. He ran to the nearest window and saw no one, and he decided he should have a look out the front door.

Shawn felt weird standing on the front steps of the police station and looking out and seeing nothing. No cars drove on the road. No pedestrians crossing the street. No cyclists yelling at drivers for cutting in front of them. No birds flying in the sky. There was no one. Absolutely no one. Then he realised that there was some one besides him. That drunk. But he wouldn't know anything about it would he?

With different apocalyptic movies flashing through his head that mostly all ended badly for the main character, he ran back into the police station and down to the holding cells. He was not expecting what he found. The drunken man's cell door, or what was left of it, was torn off it's hinges and laying on the other side of the room. While what was left of the drunken man was kind of everywhere with a big pool of blood soaking where he had been on the bed.

Shawn gaged from the stench and backed away: he was now officially screwed. He ducked down and grabbed metal tubing from what was left of the door and raised it up like a baseball bat; ready to strike in a flash. The next thing he would take up was a phone if he could find one that worked.

Running back up to the offices he ran to Lassy's desk and was relieved to not find a dead corpse stuffed under the desk. He was also very relieved to find that the phone line was working. He picked it up and phoned his best friend. He had to know that Gus was okay. He held his breath until the phone picked up.

"Shawn?!" Came the worried cry of recognition.

Shawn was so relieved to here a voice, let alone the voice of his best friend. "Gus! Oh my God! Something is happening here!" Shawn finally lost his cool as he screamed into the phone. "There is nobody here and the only person that was is dead. Torn apart within minutes of my being with him. That man I was with before, Dean, he ran off and I don't know what is happening."

All the while of this, Gus was on the other end of the phone staring at Sam and Dean Winchester. He put the phone of speaker so Dean could speak to him.

"Shawn? Remember me? It's Dean..." The voice came through the end very quickly.

"Dean! You have to help me; something is wrong and I don't know what."

"Okay well first of all; calm down. Take deep breaths and calm down."

"I CAN'T calm down! Everyone is dead and or missing and I don't know if I'm next!" Shawn from there on went in to much more detail. He motioned to the other two to start packing.

Dean looked at Sam and Gus startled. Then said to everyone. "Okay pack your bags ladies; we are going back to Santa Barbara. There is something very wrong and Shawn is in the middle of it." He stood up and the three started down the stairs into the streets of Siskiyou and then they started to jog. They carried the only weapons they had. Dean had the shot gun he'd killed the witch with, Sam had a "that's not a knife, THIS is a knife" knife and Gus the piddly little sacrificial knife used on the poor bunnies. It had taken some time for Gus to actually take it; but they had insisted he take it so that Gus had a weapon and wouldn't feel as vulnerable as he would have without one. While it wouldn't do anything to a werewolf; it was purely psychological.

Dean took Gus' phone and set it up to his ear. "Okay now Shawn; I want you to listen to me very carefully now okay?" A muffled yes came over the line. "You need to get to a very safe and secure place away from danger; can you think of anything?" A pause. "You sure your dad's is safe enough?" Another pause. "You dad has a basement? Okay. Go there. Now I want you to try to stay on the line; can you?"

The three men got to the highway. There were cars running on the road and there were people around and everybody was a little freaked out about seeing the three men run down the road with different weapons. Dean very much hoped that nobody rang the police.

"You are on a land line. Damn. Okay. Umm; check around the desks for any mobiles or cells." As Shawn disappeared off the end of the line Dean turned around to his followers. Sam looked in good shape but because of his sore knee could maybe only run a bit more and Gus looked terrible. The man was obviously not made for long distance running like this. He stopped the them all and while Shawn was not on the line; he quickly gave them instructions. "Now you too aren't going to make it much longer. I suggest you find a car and then come down."

"And...what...will...you...do?" Gus panted out with each breath.

"I'm continuing on." When Sam started to protest Dean went on about how the two would only slow them down.

And while Sam didn't want to admit it; his knee where the witch had stabbed him hurt like a bitch and unless he did some mind over body thinking, it would be a while until he got back to Santa Barbara. Plus the kid next to him looked stuffed and there was no way he'd get down there. So finally Sam gave in and listened to Dean giving them warnings and then he took off. Dean would get there.

Then Gus realised that Dean had kept his phone. He began to protest before the hunter was out of hearing rang; but then thought against it as it may be used to save his best friend. Shawn Spencer had been his best friend since middle school and he would hate to have to say goodbye now.

***

Shawn was running along the road trying to keep out of sight, even when there was no one within sight range. He had, clutched in his hand, a satellite phone he had stolen, no borrowed, out of Chief Vick's desk. He knew she would be furious if she found out, so she was planning on not telling her...if he got to a point in time when he _could_ tell her.

That thought was forced out of his head when he collided with a shopping trolly abandoned by an Aldi. He flew in the air and landed two metres away dazed. For a second he just decided to lay there.

He was using the satellite phone to stay on with Dean who was coming to rescue him. He had found his best friend and for that he was very thankful. He had also found his brother; Sam which turned out that the two had been stuck together by a 16 year old witch. The thought made him laugh and he lay there laughing for a while with blood dripping from his forehead when he heard a growl. That made him realise where he was and he got up fast in a wave of dizziness to see many large black dog kind of like animals. The only thing he could reference them to, was the New Moon werewolves.

Before he was only officially screwed. Now he was royally screwed.

* * *

A/N: So you like it? Bit dramatic wasn't it? Now this will be my last update before I go overseas. I am going for something like 8 weeks so I'd like to try and update during then. I am taking my computer but there won't be internet everywhere I go. So I will do my bets; I just won't promise anything.

Please review also; any feedback would be appreciated.


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